"Aren't you in the habit of receiving visits from a gentleman--somebody who's been seen about here in a closed car, painted pale grey?" "No car 'as ever come 'ere, sir," declared the old man blankly. "Folk in cars don't come to visit people like Tom Small." "And yet you are not quite so poorly off as you pretend to be, Mr Small," remarked his questioner. "What about that nice little balance you have in the bank--eh?" "Well, I've earned it, therefore I don't see why it should concern you," protested the old fellow angrily. "Just now it does concern me," was the other's rather hard reply--words to which the man in the inner room listened with breathless concern. Was it possible that the existence of the secret cable was suspected? Had Tom, or his son, been indiscreet? No; he felt sure they had not. They had everything to lose by disclosing anything. And yet those two visitors were bent upon extracting some information from him. Of what nature he was not quite clear. An awful thought occurred to him that he had left his cap in the sitting-room, but, on glancing round, he was relieved to see that he had carried it into the bedroom when he had sat down at the instruments. What would those two men say, if they only knew that, within a few yards of them, was the end of a cable which ran direct to Berlin? While the rain continued pelting down for perhaps a quarter of an hour, the pair sat chatting with Small. It was evident that the naval officer was disappointed with the result of his visit, for the old fisherman answered quite frankly, and had given explanation of his two visitors which could not well be met with disbelief. "Are you gentlemen a-lookin' for German spies, then?" asked old Small at last, as though sorely puzzled at the questions that had been put to him. "We're always on the look out for those devil's spawn," answered Judd. "There was a Dutch trawler off here last night, and she wasn't up to any good--I'm sure of that." "Perhaps it's the same craft as wor 'ere about a fortnight back. She flew the Dutch flag, but I believe she wor a waitin' for a German submarine, in order to give 'er petrol. They were a talkin' about 'er in the Anchor on Saturday night. Bill Chesney was out fishin' an' got right near 'er. I think one o' the patrol boats ought to ha' boarded 'er." "She was seen off the Spurn, and was then flying the British flag," remarked Judd's superior officer. "Ah! There you are!" cried Small. "I was certain she was up to no good! Those Germans are up to every bit o' craft and cunnin'. Did you gentlemen think that Mr Jennings, from Lincoln, was a German spy?" he asked naively. "No, not particularly," replied his visitor. "Only when strangers come along here, in the prohibited area, we naturally like to know who and what they are." "Quite so, sir. An' if I see any stranger a-prowlin' about 'ere in future, I won't fail to let Mr Judd know of 'im."